The next day, Li Luo realized that someone had glued his eyelids shut.

Ah, no, it was just that they were extremely heavy. He opened them and stared at the familiar ceiling above his bed. His tongue had been cut.

Ah, no, it was just cleaved to the roof of his mouth. He pried it off and groaned. His throat was dry as a desert, and his head was throbbing with a marvelous hangover. 

Memories of the previous night came flooding back to him.

An unrestrained celebration, a mad run straight into drunkenness.

How on earth had he made it back?

He did the hardest sit-up of his life, and was shocked to see himself in his usual pajamas. His body looked thoroughly...